There's a Place for Us
by Rz970316
Summary: When mrs. Hudson's American granddaughter visits Baker Street, Sherlock is immediately drawn to her, in a way he hasn't felt in a very long time. But Jessie has her secrets that no one knows about. Starts just before the beginning of The Blind Banker. Rated T for abuse and minor sexual content.
1. Believing in London

**Just a few informations before the story begins:**

**1. This is my first fanfic, so i am sorry if it is really bad. Please don't hate me! **

**2. English isn't my first language so there might be some spelling or grammar mistakes. I am sorry for those.**

**3. I do not own any characters (exept Jessie), plot lines or songs I might use. **

**I hope you all like it!**

* * *

She already knew when she boarded her plane that this stay was going to be a quite interesting. If anyone asked her why she would have answered that she didn't have the slightest idea why. She just had a feeling.

There was no particular reason why this visit should be a success. After all she hadn't seen her grandmother since she was eight and people do change in twelve years. She was an adult now even though she had no idea what to do with her life. According to her mother it was a bad thing. She was always going on about that.

»When are you going to do something useful with your life?« her mother kept asking her.

She knew of cause why her mother was asking. For him.

All she wanted was for him to stay away from her. That was why she finally agreed to go to London even though the chances of her living her dreams there was non-existent.

Yes you got it right; she knew what her dreams were even though she had no idea what to do with her life. She knew her dreams wouldn't come true, dreams never do, and he would never support her in it and she needed his support to get her mothers. And she needed her mother's support.

She could still remember when it just had been them, alone in the big city, just them against the world. Then he had entered their lives, screwing everything up. Her mother had become a stranger, so focused at him and their life together that she had simply forgotten about her eldest child. Except when he reminded her which he only did when she had done something to displease him. Which she did all the time. And then he would...

No, she wouldn't think about that or him right now. She tried to think about good things, that feeling she had about London. It was going to be great. A new start her mother had called it. A wonderful new start her instinct told her. And she always followed her instinct.

* * *

She turned her head the other way and looked across the plane. Half of the people onboard were snoring away and the rest were watching movies. She had tried to sleep herself but had been unable to. She couldn't sleep on planes no matter how hard she tried. Instead she dogged down her pocket and pulled out her IPhone. She scrolled through the numbers when she finally found the one she had been searching for.

The sound of a piano filled her headphone as one of her absolute favourite songs reassuring blasted through her head.

_Just a small town's girl_

_Living in a lonely world_

_She took the midnight train_

_Going anywhere_

_Just a city boy _

_Born and raised in South Detroit_

_He took the midnight train _

_Going anywhere_

The guitar solo she loved started and she began to relax.

_A singer in a smoky room_

_The smell of wine and cheep perfume_

_For a smile they can share the night_

_It goes on and on and on and on_

The chorus began

_Strangers, waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searching in the night_

_Streetlight people_

_Living just to find emotion_

_Hiding somewhere in the night_.

She closed her eyes, living the song as her old teacher once had told him.

_Working hard to get my fill_

_Everybody wants a thrill_

_Paying anything to roll the dice_

_Just one more time_

_Some will win, some will lose_

_Some were born to sing the blues_

_Oh the movies never ends _

_It goes on and on and on and on_

She had once considered her one of those who were born to sing the blues, but she wasn't so sure anymore. How everything had been so easier when she was just a little child with big dreams.

_Strangers, waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searching in the night_

_Streetlight people_

_Living just to find emotion_

_Hiding somewhere in the niiight._

She silently sang along to last parts of the song.

_Don't stop believing_

_Hold on to that feeling_

_Streetlight people_

_Don't stop believing_

_Hold ooooon_

_Streetlight people_

_Don't stop believing_

_Hold on to that feeling_

_Streetlight people_

_Don't stop believing_

_Hold on to that feeling_

_Streetlight people_

_Don't stop believing_

_Streetlight people_

_DON'T STOP_

She smiled as next song began.

* * *

She liked London as she watched it through the windows of the cab. She liked it, didn't love it like she loved New York. She already knew it would be like that. She had such a connection to New York that every other city was nothing compared to it. But London definitely came second. The streets looked friendly and she was going to feel at home in this grand European city. The cab turned around the corner and her instinct told her that she had reached her destination. Outside the house stood an elder woman under a gigantic black umbrella, so she remained dry despite the pouring rain. She could see faintly that the woman was an older version of her mother.

»We're here now miss« the friendly cappie informed her »221 Baker Street«

She smiled at him and paid him with a really big tip which made him run out in the rain and transport her suitcases safely inside with the help of another man who came from inside the building. She opened her door and slit in under her grandmothers umbrella.

»Welcome dear« her grandmother said, putting her arm around her grandchild shoulder while they were running inside.

When the door slammed behind them Jessie Hudson had never been happier about getting inside.

* * *

**The song is Don't Stop Believing by Journey**


	2. Meeting Him

**I don't own Sherlock!**

* * *

»John, fetch me my revolver«

»So you can shoot another hole in the wall? I don't think so!«

»Fine, then give me yours!«

»Sherlock no!«

»Oh come on, John!«

»I actually pay for half of this flat. That means that I also pay for half those damages you make, so I would really appreciate it if you stopped making damages for me to pay for.«

»I can't help it, I am bored.«

»What about that diamond-case?«

»I am still looking into that«

"»Then why don't you go and do some looking?«

The usual Sherlock-is-bored-fighting in 221B Baker Street was going for full blast. Sherlock was lying on the couch with his laptop doing his thing and John was blogging about his and Sherlock's case about the serial-killer-cappie and the lady in pink. Sherlock hadn't had an interesting case since and was taking it out so far on two walls and as Mrs. Hudson kept reminding them she putted it on their rent. John was nearly going mad. His flat mate might be a genius but he was also a real pain in the ass sometimes.

In the middle of their fight Mrs. Hudson came in to flat with a delighted smile on her face.  
»Good morning« she said.

»Morning Mrs. Hudson« John said in response while walking into the kitchen.

»Mmm« Sherlock just groaned

»Do you want some coffee Mrs. Hudson?« John asked from the kitchen.

»No thanks dear, I don't drink coffee« she answered.

John came back into the living room and sat down in his chair again as Mrs. Hudson said:

»I just wanted to inform you that my granddaughter is coming over here in a few days, but unfortunately I have planned a little holiday before she decided to come, so I was wondering on you might keep an eye on while I am gone?«

»If you are going with the fatty from the restaurant, then cancel the trip because he is back with the wife.« Sherlock mumbled

»Sure Mrs. Hudson« John said hoping she had overheard Sherlock's comment. »How old is she?«

»Twenty«

John tried to hide his smile. »Then perhaps she doesn't want to be looked after.«

But Mrs. Hudson stayed serious and sat down in a chair while she said: »According to my daughter Jessica has been in some bad company, so Emma thought that it would benefit her with a change of scene.«

John nodded understanding but Sherlock just closed his computer and walked out of the door without another word. Mrs. Hudson stood up and walked after him saying: »Where did he go?«

»I honestly don't know« John answered, as he settled himself in his chair with the paper.

* * *

The happy day when Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter would enter the lives of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson finally arrived. The rain was pouring down monotonously and from time to time the sky was illuminated by lightings. John had promised Mrs. Hudson that he and Sherlock would help her getting her granddaughter's stuff but Sherlock had mysteriously disappeared early in the morning and John hadn't seen him since.

John sighed by the thought of going out in the rain but when the taxi appeared in front of the house and he could see the vague outlines of a young woman through the backseat window his curiosity got the upper hand and when the cappie ran out of the car to take the suitcases, John rushed down to help while Mrs. Hudson got her granddaughter safely under her umbrella. The pair was last to enter the house, but it was first when the door closed that John could get a proper look on the said lady.

Well at first all he could see was a slim body dressed casually in jeans and a tank top and a mane of straight, soft, chestnut hair, as she brushed raindrops of her clothes. Then she threw her hair back and he had a clear view of her face. She was undoubtedly a beauty with her pale soft skin, slender nose and pink lips. Her hazel eyes were extremely piercing and looked right through him observing every little movement and face expression of his. She scanned the room before sending him a welcoming smile and turning towards her grandmother.

»Thank you so much for letting me come and stay here, Grams« she smiled at Mrs. Hudson and send a curios look towards John.

»It is my pleasure darling«

Mrs. Hudson finally saw her glares and understood that she wanted to be introduced to this man who also lived in 221 Baker Street.

»Dear this is my tenant dr. John Watson. John this is my granddaughter, Jessica« Mrs. Hudson said.

»Just Jessie« Jessica corrected her and shook his hand.

»It is a pleasure to meet you, Jessie« John said

»It is also great to meet you dr. Watson.« Jessie smiled politely

»You must call me John« he answered traditionally.

»John« she repeated and let go of his hand.

* * *

»John and Sherlock have promised to look after you while I am gone. They live upstairs.« her grandmother informed her. Jessie knew that her mother had made sure that she had a babysitter and she was angry about it but right now she was more interested in the man in front of her. He didn't look like any man she had met before. He seemed very ordinary, someone you just walk by if you met him on the street, but he acted hunted, his eyes observed every motion in the room, something she recognized from Mr. Andrews next door in Chinatown, who had been a cop before Giuliani cleaned the city. Like he was expecting someone to attack him right now.

She was also confused by her grandmother's comment about John and that he lived with another man. She had the best straight gay-radar in Manhattan and nothing had told her that this doctor was attacked by men.

She raised her eyebrow. »Thank you«

John smiled at her »I still don't have a job so I spend a lot of time in the flat. Just come up if you need anything.«

She nodded and smiled teasing »I will.«

Her grandmother then putted her hand on Jessie's shoulder. »Perhaps it would be a good idea if you go and unpack, darling.« she suggested.

Jessie looked relived and thanked her grandmother once again. She smiled at John as Mrs. Hudson took her back to her flat.

* * *

It turned out that Jessie had gotten her mother's old room. Mrs. Hudson had retreated to the living room to give her granddaughter some privacy to unpack. It had taken Jessie ten minutes to unpack and she had found an old photo album of her mothers. There were pictures of her mother's first day in high school, pictures of her winning a writing contest, her mother in a cheerleading uniform, her mother at a party with some friends and her mother with guys. Especially one guy was in a lot of the late pictures. She wondered who he was. If he was her father.

Her mother had never told her much about her father. All she knew was that they had met when her mother was in high school. She had moved to New York before she knew she was pregnant. Jessie's father figures had been Mr. Andrews next door and Mr. Chan who owned the greengrocer's shop downstairs. When her mother had married _him,_ _he_ was expected to be like a father to her. But _he_ could never come even close to be her father.

Jessie slammed the book by the thought of _him_. The knowledge that the room had belonged to her mother no longer made her feel safe but instead uncomfortable. She put the album back in the closet and walked out of the room. Her grandmother was in the kitchen pottering about. Jessie sat down in one of the chairs unable to ask her Grams about her father. Instead she asked her about John.

»Who did you say John lives with?« she asked innocently.

Grams smiled »Sherlock, dear. He lives with Sherlock.«

»Is that his boyfriend?«

»Oh no! Not at all. John became very angry when I asked if they would share a bedroom.«

»Ohh.« There was a short break »How do you know them?«

»Sherlock helped me some years ago with that unfortunately incident with your grandfather. He is a detective. Very used by the police. John just came home from Afghanistan. He'd been shot down there. They work together now.«

That explained the haunted look in his eyes. He became more and more interesting the more she got to know about him. And his flat mate also sounded interesting. A detective used by the police. She had never heard about that. Mr. Andrews had always called private detectives bunglers. London was definitely different.

There was a silence between them and they both thought about the fact that they hadn't seen each other for years. Then Grams said: »How is your mother?«

Jessie flinched a bit. »She is fine. She has re-decorated the apartment.»

»How is her writing going?«

»She hasn't really been writing much for a while.«

»How are Jim and the boys?«

»They are all fine. Mike has won two spelling contests and David has the highest grade point average in his class.« She didn't want to talk about Jim.

»Well that was good«

They stayed quiet for a little more. Then Grams spore again.

»Have you thought about what you want to do now that you are in London?«

»I thought about getting a job, perhaps as a waitress. I need to get a job and I have a little experience with waiting.«

»What about your education? I heard that you said no to Yale.«

»I mostly applied to Yale because mom wanted me to.«

»Where did you want to go?«

»I also got into Julliard. But Jim and mom didn't want to pay for college if I went there.«

Jessie stood up. She didn't want to talk about Julliard and Yale.

»I'm sorry. I promised a friend of mine I would call when I came here.« she lied »Will you excuse me for a minute?»

»Yes of course dear« her grandmother answered not understanding Jessie's discomfort.

She went back to her room and lay on her bed with closed eyes trying to meditate when she was interrupted by a yell:

»Mrs. Hudson!« she heard a pleasant voice scream. Then she heard a pair of big feet spurting down the stairs and in to the apartment. She came out of her room to see a pleasant looking man standing with his (good looking) back to her.

»Mrs. Hudson have you thrown out those eyeballs I kept in the refrigerator?« he said.

She was choked by the thought of this man keeping eyeballs in his fridge and this situation called for one of those comments she was known for. She just couldn't resist it. Baker Street needed some Jessie-action. She did her famous eye-roll and raised one eyebrow. With just the right portion of sarcasm in her voice she said:

»Who in their right mind keeps eyeballs in their fridge?«

He turned around and his bright eyes found her. This was how she first met the world's only consulting detective. This was how she first laid eyes on Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

**Please review, but only positive reviews or constructive criticism. I don't like those reviews where someone just tells me I suck!**


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